


A couple of Steter shorts

by AteanaLenn



Series: The (maybe) forever WIPs [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, Unrelated chapters, WIP Amnesty, inktober 2016 but in writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteanaLenn/pseuds/AteanaLenn
Summary: A couple of ficlets centered around Peter and/or Stiles and the pairing from hell that they make.ch1: A drabble prompt given by Cute As Hale: 'Steter - Dancing in the Kitchen'ch2: Prompts: "fast" + "seasonal witch"





	1. Dancing in the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XCuteAsHale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XCuteAsHale/gifts), [the Fandom Hell chat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+Fandom+Hell+chat).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble prompt given by Cute As Hale: 'Steter - Dancing in the Kitchen'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by [Twist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind), thank you so much

"Oh my god, my eyes, I cannot unsee!"

"Stiles." Peter stopped wriggling in front of the sink and looked back, eyebrows drawing down in pure Hale fashion. "What are you doing here?"

Stiles spluttered as the wolf turned away, focusing on the dirty plate in hand. Stiles, however, focused on Peter's forearms. He watched the man's muscles flex and the coarse hair there darken and flatten from the water.

"Stiles?"

"A thing!" Stiles blurted out, eyes still riveted to Peter's arms. "A thing, for Derek. You know, that he wanted me to leave on the coffee table. That sort of thing, it's not important, but there was music, and your hips, and…"

"Stiles!"

"You were grooving!"

Peter sighed deeply, bowing over the sink. "Dear lord, why me."

"I saw it! I don't know what I saw, but I saw it and I cannot unsee it!"

"Dancing, Stiles. I was dancing while cleaning. It's not such a strange concept, is it?"

"But, but!" Stiles threw his arms up, then pointed at the floor, then back at Peter. " You don't dance! You eviscerate and snark and piss off Scott, but you don't dance! And you don't wash the dishes!"

"Apparently, I do," Peter answered, raising his arms out of the water and up.

Stiles stared at the suds slowly dripping down those strong, _manly_ forearms, and squeaked. And immediately blushed like his life was on the line, probably in big, unsexy splotches. But, wet forearm from heaven. Those were extenuating circumstances.

"You do?"

"Yes, I clean. I even cook, and do the laundry. And yes, I dance."

"But you're undead, you’re basically a zombie!"

"I'm not undead, Stiles. I'm just alive, again. A full grown adult who has a house and keeps it clean. Not that Derek is a great example. Do me a favor and don't emulate Derek, the man seems to think that he's still a frat boy and mommy will keep his fridge full."

"Ah." Stiles sucked his lip, rocking back on his heels. "Wait, are you ‘mommy’ in this scenario?"

"I can be anything you want," Peter purred back, because of course he did, the asshole.

Somebody needed to tell Stiles’s stupid body that it wasn’t attracted to Derek's _old_ uncle. Really.

"Come here," Peter said from a few inches away, and when the fuck did he move closer anyway?

Stiles barely had time to squawk before unmovable arms bracketed his hips and he found himself pulled forward, then around.

"Wha-What are you doing!"

"We've been over this, it's called dancing. You move your body to the sound of the music."

"It's _old people music_!"

Peter's sigh ghosted over the fragile skin of Stiles's ear. He couldn't stop a full body shiver at the sensation. And of course, Peter noticed, the asshole, and smirked. "It's a waltz, Stiles. A very classy dance."

"Well, I'm not exactly in the classy category of people," Stiles retorted as he frowned, trying to see where Peter was putting his feet. He followed Peter because it was useless to try to escape a werewolf's strength. (It had nothing to do with strong muscles and a heady, spicy scent.)

"Anyone can dance, all you need is music and someone to guide you if you don't know the steps."

"So what, you’re going to show me your moves, big bad wolf?"

"Why don't you follow my lead and see, little red?"

And that's how Stiles learned to waltz in Derek's kitchen. From the undead.

And of course, because the universe hated him, Derek entered the room just as Peter was whirling Stiles around the table like a princess.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There :) I would love to know what you think of this!


	2. More of a Seasonal Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Inktober 2016. I don't draw, but I like their prompts. 
> 
> Oct 1st: FAST + SEASONAL WITCH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by [Twist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind) again, this ficlet wouldn't be anywhere as good as it is without her wonderful help!

“-Draw my strength from trees?”

Woah, could he be any lamer? Because trees, really? Stiles might have been blushing. Just a bit. Nobody would know, because Deaton wouldn’t blab. Also, the man didn’t know the meaning of small talk.

“You said yourself that you kill flowers just by breathing on them and that your mother preferred shrubs and trees. Those qualities are usually passed down along family lines.”

Stiles frowned. “My mom wasn’t a witch.”

“Of course she was,” Deaton said, still sorting whatever on his table. The lack of ‘paying attention here, important stuff’ was not so slowly wearing on Stiles nerves. Because, Deaton.

“We checked your father’s family tree, and he has no magical abilities. So it must come from your mother. That doesn’t mean she was trained.”

Stiles huffed and rocked back on his heels. Any longer now, and he was going to fidget and Deaton would give him the _look_. “Alright, let’s go with that. But why trees?”  He might be a bit stuck on that point.

Deaton gave him the _look_ \--called it!-- then grabbed a couple of jars off the shelves.

“Take this.”

“What are those?” Stiles asked, shaking the nuts at the bottom.

“Tree seeds. You’ll plant them and care for them. It will tell you with which tree or trees you have an affinity for.” The man turned toward his office.

“No, wait! I mean, that’s it? How? How do I grow a tree?” he might have been begging. A little.

“I’m not a gardener. I guess you’ve found what you’re going to do with your last week of summer vacation.”

“What?”

“ Go find a skilled gardener and ask for lessons.”

“But, who should I ask? It can’t be Scott or my dad. I’m a teenager. I don’t spend my time outside. Nobody I know spends time outside. Well, except for Derek and Peter. Do you think...?”

There was a short silence, before Deaton remarked, "It's interesting that you think Peter Hale gardens."

“Oh my god, I think I broke my brain.”

“Go, Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay, sure, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He left, but paused at the door. “Trees take a long time to grow, don’t they? Does that mean that I’ll have to wait _decades_ before my focus is grown-up enough to use?”

Deaton sighed. “You must remember that Nature is cyclical. You don’t need an old, aged tree, to support your magic. You need the power they gather slowly but surely, until they burst forth with leaves and flowers, during the spring season. That’s what you rely on. A slow but steady rise of power, with a widespread power base, and magic anchored deep through their roots.”

“Spring? That’s months away!”

“Yes, but you first need to plant your tree.”

“Right. Right. Find the gardener, plant the tree.”

“Don’t make the gardener do the work. You’re supposed to link your magic to the tree and feed it with your energy as much as with sunlight and water. You need to join your magic to it, to know the feel of them and the way they ‘think’ so you can link to other trees at a later need.”

“Go forth and be one with the trees?”

“Yes. Now go get started.”

“Sure, sure. You’ll see, I’ll be Poison Ivy before the end of the season!” Stiles shook the jar again, already imagining all the cool stuff he could do with plant life. Deaton said he’d get a power boost from nature and they lived near a damn _Preserve_. So much potential.

“One last thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You might want to remember that Nemeta are always trees. Druids commune with Nature in general. They don’t _plant_ trees in particular.”

Holy shit, he was a wizard and his magical focus was a potentially super-powered tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we all know that Stiles would be a total dork about (his) magic!
> 
> Leave me word about what you think?


End file.
